The Past Is a Wound That Won't Heal
On our third year wedding anniversary, Ricardo Gambino finds me in the estate located far beyond the city's boundaries.
As he clutches a pregnancy report, he finds it difficult to suppress the smile on his face.
"I have good news for you, Isabella!" Ricardo exclaims excitedly. "Lucia is pregnant! It so happens that you're infertile, we'll have her give birth to the baby, and you can raise them! After that, I'll make sure to send Lucia away. You, on the other hand, shall remain as my wife!"
Ricardo's tone is starting to drift. He sounds like he's done something amazing for me and wants me to compliment him.
But I merely look at him as though he were a jester.
What Ricardo doesn't know is that he's the infertile one. Also, we've already gotten divorced from each other.
At that moment, I receive a new text on my phone. Then, I see a photo of an ultrasound report regarding the first trimester of a pregnancy.
"Isabella, we're having triplets."
The next text pops up immediately. "I shall marry you in three days."